The Dragon Princess and the Trickster
by seraph7
Summary: When a mysterious mage appears at the court of Daenerys Targaryen and offers her his services, Ser Jorah's distrust and jealousy threatens to drive a wedge between him and his mistress. Of course Loki, being Loki thrives on the mischief!


When the mage Loki Laufeyjarsson arrived at their little court promising wonders and requesting an audience with his Queen, Jorah was instantly on his guard. He didn't want to leave his Khaleesi with this mysterious stranger with his tales of far -off lands and magical feats anywhere near her alone. Nevertheless, he was starting to regret insisting on joining their meeting as she seemed to receive his plans most positively. He's hoped she would send him on his way, but she was extremely interested in what he had to suggest.

"What have we to fear?"  
Ser Jorah didn't trust this man, not one bit. He didn't like his cool confidence, the air of barely suppressed menace emnating from his slender frame. He claimed to be a sorcerer of great power but Jorah doubted this man could back up his claims. And he didn't trust his motives either. This Loki Laufeyjarson or whethever he styled himself was a conman, and a trickster who meant them no good and Daenerys, his Daenerys was being taken in by his honeyed words and silvertongued eloquence.

"The Starks, the Lannisters, The Tyrells-" Jorah butted in, not caring if he sounded belligerent. "-The Iron Fleet. Now is not the time to rush our campaign. Westeros will rise against us if they do not accept our plans and I cannot see how following this madcap scheme will bring us triumph-"

Loki seemed unfazed by his protests, answering him with complacence. "We have an army-"

Daenerys's eyes gleamed with enthusiasm. She's listening to this man. She agrees with his mad plots. Jorah dug his nails into his hands as her eyes met Loki's. "- and dragons." She nodded in assent. "A worthy weapon for a great Queen. They are yours to command?"

"They are my children. I raised them. They are mine. And whern they are at their full strength, then-"

"Then you shall be formidable." He finished, with an understanding smile.

It was terrifying how charming he could be when he wanted to be. That low cultured voice could sell you anything and the unwary would be completely taken lured by the seductive tone of his voice.

"My forefather rode them as steeds. We conquered the Seven Kingdoms with dragons and I will conquer them again. I will tak back what is mine and those that stole my birthright from me will pay-" Daenarys's eyes shone with a fanatical light. "Have you seen my dragons, my lord?"

The knight was astounded she would reach out to this man and reveal her secret weapons. Jorah didn't miss the gleam in those green eyes. He didn't like it; not one bit.

"Not as yet."

She gave him her most charming smile. Jorah's heart twisted. He would have given anything to have her smile like that to him and instead she was bestowing her smiles on unworthy strangers.

"Tomorrow perhaps, I shall introduce you to my children."

Jorah wanted to protest this extravagant show of approval to this newcomer. It wasn't safe! What was she thinking of? To allow a stranger to see her greatest treasure? He still hadn't forgotten the treachery of Xaro and the Thirteen in Quarth. What made her think this conjurer, this fair trickster was any more worthy of her favour?

"We risk everything on a gamble and you hide in the shadows pulling the strings." he gritted out.

"I do not fight, my lady-" Loki's voice was mildly reproving.

Jorah raged at the fact that Loki barely acknowledged him, directing his words to his mistress instead. "I merely provide the tools for your conquest."

"The question is can you fight?" Jorah sniped, lip curling in distaste as he butted in. "-Or are you nothing but fine words and magic tricks?"

Loki gave him a cold look. If he was not of royal descent he was remarkably good at imitating their innate imperiousness. Once again Jorah was forced to wonder who this stranger really was.

"With all due respect Ser, I have fought in more conflicts than you've had hot dinners but my talents lie in other areas." He turned away from the knight, disregarding him completely. "Do we have an agreement, my lady?"

_Say no. Tell this charlatan you see through his games. You don't need him. Don't trust that face. Don't trust that seductive clever smile._

"Help me win this war Ser, and I will grant whatever you desire. You have my word as a Targaryen."

Jorah didn't like the smile that slid across his face. He didn't like the look of radiant hope on her face as the stranger left her presence.

_I must do something before this situation gets out of hand. I cannot allow this magician to gain more power over her._

"Khaleesi, I must speak to you-" Jorah accosted her as soon as she left the throne room to prepare for dinner. He glared at her attendants until they moved away giving them privacy, pacing his steps to match hers.

"Must we do this now, Ser?" she didn't even trouble to hide her impatience.

He held his ground, chin jutted out stubbornly. _She had to listen to him, she must!_ "He promises a great deal, this Laufeyjarsson. Do you think you can trust him?" he urged her.

She stopped to face him in an alcove. "No more than any one else, Ser Jorah, but the man has vision. He has power-"

He hated that radiant look on her face once again. How can she trust him so readily? Had he cast some sort of a spell on her?

"By what means?" muttered Jorah, but Daenerys in her enthusiasm wasn't listening to his counsel.

"Such power- and he wants to serve me. Why would I refuse him?"

Jorah knew he was becoming unreasonable but he couldn't help it, the stranger, Loki whatever he called himself got under his skin and threatened all he held dear. "I don't trust him and I don't think you should either." He burst out before he could control his tongue.

"Why not?"

"He's an outsider. He's not invested in your triumph. What does he gain from you winning your birthright?" _What stops him from turning on you as soon as he gets what he desires?_

"Perhaps he wants to serve me, as rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms." Dany retorted with a touch of youthful arrogance. "There is nothing wrong with a man of skill offering his services to a queen-"

"I don't trust him." Jorah stuck by his principles.

"You don't trust anyone, Ser Jorah. You are excused tonight, I will dine with him alone."

"Khaleesi, please-"She turned dismissively from him, turning her attention to preparing for dinner. Jorah looked at the gown her attendants had laid out for her, all fine diaphanous silks and precious jewels.

He would have given anything to see her in that, and she was going to wear that for this Loki? To dine intimately with him? Jorah felt as if she had struck him across the face. His distrust and hatred of this new interloper burned ever fiercer.

Jorah decided to confront Loki before he got anywhere near Dany. He didn't like the man, not one bit.

Loki gave him a deceptively pleasant smile as they met. He must know how he got under his skin and irritated him. For a moment Jorah suspected he was doing it on purpose to see how far he could push him into outward aggression.

"Maester Laufeyjarsson, may we?"

There was a twinkle in his eyes that didn't bode well."You wanted to speak to me?"

The edge of boredom in his voice annoyed Jorah and led him to be rasher than he normally would have been. "What do you want with Daenerys?"

The other man's mouth curved up in a smile which was not quite as innocent as Jorah suspected it should be. "Want? I have no ulterior motive. I merely wish to serve the queen and help her regain her rightful position-"

No ulterior motive? Jorah didn't believe it."Bullshit!"

Loki didn't react to his outburst of anger, just the slightest quirk of his eyebrow at his lack of control. Jorah realised that the other man had subtly gained the upper hand, knowing how much he got to him.

_You give him too much power to provoke._

"You come here with your tricks and fine words promising the seven realms to my mistress. Do you expect me to trust you? Allow you to sell her out or lead her into danger and treachery, because I swear to you will not allow it!"

"With all due respect, it is not you who is making the decisions. Her Grace is." The smile turned cruel. "I notice you are rather familiar about your mistress...", Loki let the damning implication hang in the air between them. "Are you really on first name terms in private? Because if I am stepping on some toes here, I would dearly like to know..."

Jorah gritted his teeth and prayed for the patience not to attack the man. His hand reached out to grasp Loki by the arm, to pull him close and impart some kind of threat. He was so irate from his needling he didn't trust himself not to try and punch him, just to try and express his hatred of the man in a physical fashion. "How dare you? You think this is some kind of a joke?"

As soon as his hand made contact with Loki's bare forearm, his hand went black and frozen. No spell was cast, not that Jorah heard. Jorah pulled away his arm, startled by the sting of frostbite from the mage's touch. "What have you done to me?" he gasped

Loki's eyes gleamed dangerous and vicious. That suave urbane voice took on a sharp edge.

"The next time you presume to lay a hand on me, I promise you that you will lose it. Have a care, Ser Jorah." His smile broadened almost cruelly. "It would be no more than you deserve."

"My hand! My hand!" Jorah shook the afflicted limb, horrified by the blackened arm. "You can't just leave me like this!"

Loki gave a put upon sigh, reaching once more for his forearm. Jorah tried to suppress a flinch, with little success.

"I will heal you this once, but I trust you learned your lesson?"

Jorah nodded, clutching his now healed arm. "Now if you will excuse me, I am due for more discussion over dinner with the lady. I believe you are cordially not invited-" he glided off with a self-satisfied smile on his face.

Jorah felt as if he'd never hated anyone so much, not even the late Viserys.


End file.
